a gesture most winning. "Never, never, unless--"

"Unless--?" he repeated.

"Unless--for any reason--you were angry with me," she murmured, with her
face hidden again.

He folded his arms more closely about her. "My little Chris, never be
afraid of that," he said.

"Oh, but you might be," she protested.

"Never, Chris." He spoke gravely, with absolute conviction.

She turned her lips quickly to his. "Then let's run away together, shall
we?"

He kissed her with great tenderness before he answered. "No, dear, no. It
can't be done. What would your aunt say to it?"

"Surely if I don't mind that, you needn't!" she said.

But he shook his head. "I won't let you be pestered with preparations. We
will keep it a secret from everyone outside. But I think we must let your
Aunt Philippa into it. I think you owe her that."

"P'raps," admitted Chris, without enthusiasm. "But she is sure to want a
big show, Trevor."

"Leave that to me," he said. "I promise you shall not have that. We will
get it done early, and we will be at Kellerton for luncheon."

Her eyes shone. "How lovely! And the boys, too--and Bertie?"

He surveyed the eager face for a few seconds in silence. Then, "Chris,"
he said, "would it mean a very great sacrifice to you if I asked for the
first fortnight with you alone?"

He was watching her closely, watching for the faintest suggestion of
disappointment or hesitancy in the clear eyes, but he detected neither.
Chris beamed upon him tranquilly.

"Why, I should love it! There's no end of things I want to show you.
And we can make it all snug before Bertie and the boys come. But, of
course"--she became suddenly serious--"I must have Cinders with me."

"Oh, we won't exclude Cinders," he said.

She laughed--the gay, sweet laugh he loved to hear. "That's settled,
then. And you'll make Aunt Philippa promise not to tell, for of course
that would spoil everything. Oh, and Trevor, you won't discuss Bertrand
with her? Promise!"

He looked at her keenly for a moment, met only the coaxing confidence of
her eyes, and decided to ask no question.

"My dear," he said, "as far as Bertrand is concerned, your Aunt Philippa
and I have nothing to discuss."

"That's all right," said Chris, with relief. "Trevor, you've done me a
lot of good. You are quite the most comforting man I know. I'm not
frightened any more, and I'll never be such a little idiot again as long
as I live."

She rose with the words, stood a momen